


Leap of Faith

by The_PrincessCat



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Campanille, Gen, Italy, Leap of Faith, flourance, the creed, what it means to be an assassin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:34:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26224270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_PrincessCat/pseuds/The_PrincessCat
Summary: Ezio is on the run in Flourance Italy and finds the escape up the chapel Campanille. He reflects back on his life, and what the leap of faith means as an assassin.
Kudos: 8
Collections: The Eagle's Path | An Assassin's Creed Zine





	Leap of Faith

**Author's Note:**

> written for 'The Eagle's Path' digital zine

Adrenaline pumped fast. Many pairs of feet rapidly fell onto busy cobblestone streets. Ezio’s hands moved people to either side as the shouts of guards rang out from behind him. He couldn’t help the smirk on his lips as he pushed harder, faster. People yelled at him, thick Italian curses filling the space he left behind him moments before the rush of armed guards ran at his heels.

A stack of crates leaned against the side of the building. Immediately Ezio recognized where he was. In front of him was the Santa Maria del Fiore with its long, low pitched building and round, domed cathedral with a spire that reached towards the heavens. Beside it was the tower Giotto's Campanile.

The wood made a series of hollow  _ thunks _ as boots connected with the crates, situated like stairs for his use only.  _ Thunk _ . Ezio jumped, momentum carrying him as his body reacted without conscious thought. His fingers wrapped firmly around the pole sticking out in front of him. 

Even before he had been an assassin he had been more nimble than others. His fingers were long, calloused and rough, with more strength in them than the average man.

Swinging, Ezio was on a brick support beam between the church and the adjacent building. Try as they might, his pursuers failed to keep pace with him. It was nearly impossible. Years of training and instincts moved him, and while the guards of Florence were good, Ezio was better. 

Feet landing deftly on a thin metal rail, his balance was perfect. Yet, Ezio pressed forward still, the threat quickly encroaching. 

He moved over people's heads, with gasps and choice words, but Ezio didn’t care. One. Two. Three bracings and another pole brought him to a flatter, brick support arch. With a quick pivot, Ezio ran towards the wall. His heart beating rapidly as he saw a few of his pursuers now attempting to follow him. There were a few others fell the short distance to the street below. 

It was a brisk run to the wall, fingers and feet finding the grips they needed as Ezio climbed the flat, mason-worked wall using divots invisible to the untrained eye. Instinct pushed him forward while his hands and feet were strengthened. He needn’t look at what he was doing, simply where he was going, and his body did the rest. 

Somehow not alerted by the racket below, a guard patrolling the rooftops walked by. Ezio reached up, hidden assassin’s blade releasing as he lifted his body up. The blade bit into the man’s clothing and flesh as he screamed and was pulled down onto one of his companions. They both toppled to the ground, causing more of a commotion than before. 

Once on the rooftop of the building across the church, Ezio had a moment to look at his surroundings. There were guards closing in on him from all angles. Below, they were attempting to follow his wall climb, but most were not used to this sort of an escape. There were three bowmen who were leaping from rooftop to rooftop, causing loose terracotta tiles to slip from their place and fall to the civilians below. It was mildly amusing, but he couldn’t get caught.

Ezio jumped. He attached himself to the smooth sides of the church and began to shimmy around. Bolts went flying past his head, insults and curses followed, though not a single one hit the mark. Death was an old friend, a comrade and an enemy. There was no fear of dying, and if an arrow found the mark, he knew his name would be remembered. 

The slanted rooftop under his feet bridged the distance between the tower currently at his back and the steeple of the church. The view from the Campanille tower was breathtaking, but Ezio needed to rid himself of the guards hot on his tracks. 

Another bolt barely missed him as his feet clacked hard on the roof tiles; Ezio’s mind was made up. The adrenaline from the pursuit pumped faster through his veins. Ezio loved the chase, the rush that came with killing, running, fighting and most of all, the leap of faith. 

The church became background noise to Ezio’s thoughts. The elegant structure, constantly in a state of upkeep, with its large windows and golden paint. The Santa Maria del Fiore was simply a vehicle for his escape.

Ezio had been born to be an assassin, whether he’d known at the time or not. The remembrance of the past, his blood pumping through his veins, it was full of history. With every triumph and every tragedy he had been groomed. The chosen. The prophet. 

_ Laa shay'a waqui'n moutlaq bale kouloun moumkine. _

The old words were seared in his mind, the creed and this feeling of what it meant to be an assassin. His family, brother and uncle, had passed on these words to him before their deaths. While this phrase was all he had left of them, it was enough to keep their memories alive. For an assassin, memory was everything. 

The guards of Florence were nothing if not persistent. He slipped by a man on a scaffold, humming a song to himself. He seemed not to notice Ezio rush past, his job only to restore the cathedral. One, maybe two, were still on his tail as he ran up the smooth white wall. He grabbed onto the circular protrusion beside the window and hoisted himself up. 

The Templars were the truth that most men followed, blindly. They were not to be blamed for the way they were, when the only truth was this.

_ Where other men are limited by the truth, remember .... _

“Nothing is true,” Ezio was finally out of the reach of the guards. More arrows descended upon him, yet every shot fell short. Up and around, smaller terracotta steps, likely designed to keep rain off of those below or a design flaw, Ezio was uncertain. 

He rounded a corner, continuing the upward ascent with a jump to a windowsill. The domed steeple was practically designed to be climbed, hand holds and grips an elegant but excessive display of Catholic arrogance. The more richly decorated the church, the place of worship, the more God praised the practitioners. This flawed way of thinking had poisoned the minds of men for longer than Ezio had been alive and would continue to corrupt long after his death. 

_ Where other men are limited by morality or law, remember ... _

“Everything is permitted.” Ezio’s breath was coming slow as he steadied himself. He jumped from handhold to handhold, up yet another scaffolding and onto a flat platform at the top of the dome. His pursuers had stopped following, instead gathering below the cathedral to either collect his corpse or capture him should he choose to climb down peacefully. He could see them amongst the gathering crowd below.

They would lose interest soon enough. Ezio let a steadying breath press from his lungs as he looked up, the final point of the steeple the only thing left to climb. And he did. 

Jumping up to a final terracotta awning, he pulled himself up, gripping a metal guard towards the cone hoisting the golden cross skyward. He gripped the decorative orb beneath it and, in a single breath, he was perched atop the cross. The city of Florence stretched out in every direction. 

This was what he lived for, the view that most would never see. His skin crawled as his eyes took in the city. He balanced easily on the small point, his mind absorbing every landmark of importance. From wall to wall, the mountains and the river to one side. 

“We work in the dark to serve the light,” The words spilled from his lips, the heavy Italian verse carrying with the light breeze. 

There was one more part that Ezio now clung onto. The leap. It was called the leap of faith, of course, for a very good reason. If you did not have faith, you would die. “We are Assassins.”

Ezio spotted a bale of hay, and let out a long breath. His body moved, and his mind cleared with the new rush of wind. Ezio leapt, and he felt his ancestors wrap him in protection, as he knew they would.

To say he was falling would have been an insult, his entire being embracing the action as the cathedral passed at his back and the wind pressed through his robes. Ezio’s eyes were closed, and there was no sound spare the steady, fearless beating of his heart. 

He wasn’t always certain, but in these moments he found his why. Why he continued to fight, to learn, to be the best assassin that there ever was. It wasn’t just that his ancestors were protecting him. There was a sensation that they were actually with him, in his body and his soul. Centuries upon centuries of assassins, some his own blood while others his blood only through the creed.

  
It was important to embrace the feeling and the memories of the past, lest he ever forget what he stood for. 

The hay appeared underneath just when Ezio knew it would. His body landed soft, the pile only slightly disturbed as it swallowed him whole. Smiling, Ezio shifted, the wooden cart creaking along with him. He pulled his hood over his eyes, and adjusted the cape at his side with a shrug of his broad shoulders. He knew the guards had lost interest in him now. They had better things to do than to wait for a dead man. 

As all good assassins, Ezio slipped from the cart, and melded into the crowd. There were too many things he needed to do and he had already been delayed too long. 

**Author's Note:**

> I was so blessed to be a part of 'The Eagle's Path' digital zine. Honestly, getting to write for one of my favorite fandoms was amazing and made me miss the games so much. I really hope you enjoyed the Leap of Faith from my favorite man, Ezio Auditore da Firenze. We spent many hours together my friend and you are near and dear to my heart. 
> 
> I appreciate all kudos and respond to all comments. Thank you for reading!


End file.
